


Open Mic Night

by Breadcrumbs1783



Category: RWBY
Genre: Comedy, Established Relationship, F/F, Fear, I Love You, Jokes, Lesbian Character, Nervousness, Real Life, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Self-Esteem Issues, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadcrumbs1783/pseuds/Breadcrumbs1783
Summary: Blake Belladonna is many things. A stand-up comedian is not one of them. However, after a night of wild drinking with Yang, she finds out that her drunken-self agreed to go on stage and tell the most HILARIOUS jokes to a crowd of over a hundred people. Panic ensues. Will Blake find the courage to go on stage? Or will she be taking her final bow?
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Kudos: 27





	Open Mic Night

“Blake, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Totally. I got this.”

Blake was lying. She most certainly did not “got” this. The two women stood outside the Luis Vandal Theatre on Main Street. Even though it was only 6:00 pm, the autumn night had already taken hold of the town. Hues of purple and dark blue glowed softly in the sky above as the last remnants of light said their goodbyes. The street lights emanated a soft fluorescent glow upon the road, illuminating the cars parked on the curb and the nearby shops. The most vivid lights, however, came from the theatre. Blue and yellow neon lines outlined the large gaudy sign above their heads that read, “Open Mic Night! All ages welcome! Sign up inside.” Blake shuffled in place and glanced over to Yang, wore the same goofy smile as always has. That stupid, dumb, amazing, wonderful smile that got her into this mess.

Last night, in their tiny one-bedroom apartment, with a glass of Chardonnay in her hand, Blake proclaimed her admiration for Yang’s physique. If memory serves her right, the exact quote was, “Baby, the only thing finer than this china is your butt.” She then fell to the ground, guffawing at her clever word-play. Yang broke down as well, and soon the two women were rolling on the floor as white wine spilled on the rug. When they had calmed down, Yang joked that Blake should become a stand-up comedian. Apparently, Drunk Blake was a real go-getter and agreed. Not only did Drunk Blake agree, but she also mentioned that there was going to be an Open Mic Night at the theatre the next day and that she was going to sign up. Sober Blake hated Drunk Blake more than she usually hated herself.

When she woke up the next day, she had no recollection of the night before. Yang, however, did. When it’s Yang’s turn to take the trash out, she gets a case of minor Alzheimer’s, but when Blake says some stupid while hammered, Yang becomes a freaking supercomputer. As soon as Blake stepped out of the shower and went to their bedroom, Yang, without a hint of malice or ill intent, asked her if she was still going to do the open mic night. Then, as if to twist the knife even further, Yang flashed her trademark smile and said, “It would make me really happy!”

Yang’s smile was her kryptonite. Her dimples pop out, her pearly whites gleam, and her nose scrunches up in the most adorable fashion. How could anyone with a heart say no to that smile? Certainly not Blake. If doing stand-up comedy would make Yang happy, then gosh darn it she’ll do it. Which led Blake to silent panicking in front of the theatre and cursing the name of Chardonnay.

Yang beamed at Blake. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Blake could only muster up a weak grin in return. She looked inside the building before her. Behind the glass doors was the lobby with around fifteen people waiting to sign up for the open mic. One performer was wearing a cowboy hat and slung a banjo over his back. Another one was dressed up as a cat and mimed licking his paws, although Blake could make out the gleam of saliva in his hands.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” said Yang, her voice gushing with enthusiasm as she walked towards the entrance.

“Right behind you,” said Blake. Against the better judgment of every single reasonable sense in her body, Blake followed Yang and went inside.

The two women entered the building and basked in the gentle glow of the interior lights. The lobby was an expansive room with a carpet that blended the colors of red, blue, and yellow into vivid lines. Two grand staircases to the balcony flanked the box office. On the walls were paintings of forest scenery by local artists. Directly in front of the two was the line for sign-ups. The two women took their place and waited.

“So, what are you going to talk about?” Yang said as her eyes looked over the beautiful decor.

“Oh, it’s a surprise. I wouldn't want to ruin it for you,” said Blake. She had no idea what she was going to talk about. Books, movies, dating, the dangers of drinking white wine on a Friday night? She couldn’t come up with anything good.

“Honestly, Blake, I’m really surprised you wanted to do this. You’re the last person I’d expect to go on stage and crack jokes,” said Yang. 

“Well, I always wanted to try stand up at least once. You know what they say. ‘Give it the ol’ college try!’” Blake said, slapping on the biggest smile she could on her face while swinging her arm. Yang giggled and wrapped her arm around Blake’s shoulders. Some of the anxiety that had built up in Blake’s body melted away a little once she was brought into Yang’s warm embrace. 

A few minutes passed and the two women were half-way through the line. Blake looked around and tried to admire the artwork on the wall, the all-too-familiar butterflies of panic sprouted forth in Blake’s stomach. Blake glanced at the grand staircases. Maybe if she went to the top of those steps and jumped off, she could go to the hospital instead. She could catch up on some books while in bed.

Finally, the dreaded moment came and Blake faced the sign-up sheet, though it felt more like her death warrant. After praying to whatever god would answer her, she picked up the pen and signed her name. To call it signed would be generous, however, as the shakiness of her hand resulted in the B in her name resembling more like a P with the other letters following suit. The two ladies then left the line and sat down at a nearby bench by the wall.

After a few minutes, a man in a black polo shirt and khakis came out of the main entrance into the auditorium. His shirt had “Luis Vandal Theatre Employee” embroidered on the right pec.

“Hello everyone!" said the employee. "Thank you for coming. We have a great show for you tonight. If all the performers would follow me backstage into the green room, we’ll get started shortly.”

As people with guitars, trombones, juggling balls, and playing cards started to filter into the main auditorium, Blake stood still. Her feet became stone and she couldn’t move an inch. She looked up at the staircase one more time. Perhaps jumping off wasn’t such a bad idea. Before she could contemplate self-harm any further, she felt a warm embrace from behind.

“You’re going to be amazing,” whispered Yang. She then gave Blake a gentle push forward. As if being carried by the momentum alone, Blake trudged on past the theatre worker and into the auditorium.

Blake met up with the rest of the performers and walked past rows of seats towards the stage. While she had seen larger theatres before, this one was no less grand. The proscenium arch stage was about thirty feet wide. Lines of red velvet seats sloped downward while a grand balcony loomed over the back rows. Large stone Greek masks hung above the curtains. Blake estimated three hundred people could fit in the auditorium. Which meant that three hundred people would watch her humiliate herself tonight.

The group was led backstage and showed the green room. As Blake entered, she saw an old couch on the right-hand side of the room, some broken theatre lights on the left side, and a vending machine that probably hadn’t been restocked in years in the back. There were also some chairs and stools strewn about. The square carpet in the center had stains spotted all over and inklings of mold in a corner.

“Nothing but the best for the performers, huh?” Blake muttered. She found a stool in a corner of the room and sat down. As she put her weight on the chair, a noisy creak warned of a fracture, but Blake paid it no mind. She had bigger things to worry about than a broken seat. The other performer pulled up chairs, gathered around the couch, and started to chatter among themselves. The excessive lip flapping would have annoyed Blake on any other day, but it was a welcome distraction right now.

As Blake looked around the room for a possible air vent she could hide in, she saw the man in the cowboy hat looking at her. The young man caught her eyes, smirked, and sauntered towards her corner. The soft click-clank of his belt buckle reached it's way to Blake's ears, and she sneered. _Great. Now I got to deal with Walker Texas Ranger here_. Blake narrowed her eyes at the man and set her face to "Don't you dare try to talk to me" mode. The man didn’t seem to notice, however. In a long southern drawl, he said, “How do you do ma’am? My name is–

“I already have a girlfriend and she’s way hotter than you.”

The cowboy was stunned by Blake’s bluntness. As a finishing move to this horrible interaction, Blake pulled out her phone, crossed her legs, and started mindless scrolling through apps in an attempt to look busy. This strategy usually worked whenever guys tried to talk to her, even before she met Yang. However, the man still stood there. She sighed and lowered her phone.

“Can I help you?”

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, your leg is bouncing more than a jackrabbit in an inflatable castle.”

Blake looked at her legs and found that one was indeed bouncing about in a rapid motion. Blake cursed her lack of self-control as she placed her hand on it.

The cowboy leaned against the wall next to her. “Are you nervous?”

Blake tapped her fingers on her leg and said, “Why do you care?”

“Well, I find that it’s the people who claim they don’t want help are the ones who need it the most.”

The sincerity in his voice surprised Blake. “You sound just like Yang,” she scoffed as she scrolled through her phone.

The cowboy chuckled and said, “Is that the lady who’s hotter than me?”

Blake shot daggers at him with a gaze.“Yeah. And she does martial arts as a hobby. So if you try to make any moves on me, she’ll kick your ass.”

Despite the threat, the man seemed unfazed.“Well, don’t you worry ma’am, I ain’t in the business of finding a new partner," he said. "I already got my mate here with me tonight.” The cowboy pulled out a flip phone and showed Blake his wallpaper. It was him with a tall black man in a matching cowboy hat in front of a barn. The cowboy pointed at the other man in the photo and said, “That there is my boyfriend, Jeremiah.” A tidal wave of regret and shame crashed over Blake as her cheeks flushed with heat.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed,” she said. Great. Now she was scared, nervous, AND felt like an asshole too.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse said to me. The name’s Hayden, by the way.” Hayden extended his hand towards Blake and she shook it with a bit of apprehension.

“Blake.”

Hayden slid down to the floor and said, “So, is Yang here tonight?”

“Yeah,” Blake said with an air of exhaustion. “She’s the whole reason why I’m doing this.”

“Ah. So this is all about her huh? That’s very sweet of you."

Blake blushed. “Yeah, well, sweetness isn’t going to help me find something hilarious in the next few minutes. I can’t come up with anything funny.”

Hayden let out an affirmative hum and said, “You ain’t got nothing to talk about huh? That’s a shame. Especially since you’re a…” The cowboy took a quick glance at the list posted on the door. “Comedian.”

Blake sighed. “Yup. I’m screwed.”

The cowboy looked up at the ceiling with a twinkle in his eye as if he was going to recall some ancient words of wisdom. “You know, sometimes in life, you got to speak from the heart. I’m sure you got the words in you, friend. You just need a bit of inspiration.” Hayden reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled-up piece of paper.

“This here’s the song I’m gonna sing tonight. I wrote it this morning. I was in the same predicament as you are now. Too much confusion and not enough good ideas. Then, I remembered the time me and Jeremiah went fishing together, and it all clicked. Before I knew it, I had a melody on my hands and a song in my heart. All it took was a spark. You said you’re doing this for Yang, correct? Then think about her. The rest will follow.”

Before Blake could say anything back, the door opened and a theatre employee announced, “Hayden, you’re up.”

Hayden stood up and grinned.

“Well, I guess I gotta go. Good luck out there, Blake. Something tells me you’re gonna be great.”

He sauntered over to the couch, picked up his banjo, and walked out of the room. Once again, Blake was alone. Speak from the heart? What the hell does that even mean? How is her heart gonna make her funny? Maybe if she ripped it out of her torso, some sick freaks in the audience might chuckle.

As Blake pondered Hayden’s cryptic words, more and more performers filtered out of the room until she was all alone. Minutes ticked by as panic ballooned in her. Her hands grew clammy and her leg resumed its dance of madness. She couldn’t do this. She’s a nerd for Christ’s sake, not a comedian. What was she doing here? As soon as the theatre employee comes to get her, she’d politely say that there would be no way in hell she’d get on stage and that this was all a terrible mistake. As Blake was writing a more etiquette script for the encounter in her head, she heard a “ding” come from her phone. Hoping it was an alert that the entire theatre was on fire, she looked glanced down and saw it was from Yang. Blake opened the message and read, “Hey baby! Break a leg! Love you!” which was followed by several hearts and kissy faces. A knock at the door turned Blake’s attention away as the theatre employee came in.

“You’re up next. Are you ready?”

Blake looked down at the text and sighed. “Sure.”

Blake must have passed out before going on stage because before she knew it, she was in front of about a hundred people with a mic in her hand. The spotlights above blinded her with a pounding stream of illumination. From what Blake could make out, rows of piercing eyes were stabbing at her. Coughs from the elderly and hushed conversations bubbled in the audience as they waited for her to start. Blake blanked. This is Hell. This is actually Hell. Subtle feedback came from the speakers on stage as her mic hand shook like it had a miniature earthquake inside of it. Water evaporated in her mouth. Blake looked around one more time as if to find some sort of miracle waiting in the crowd. Instead, she spotted Yang, her long blond hair sticking out like the sun in the midst of stormy clouds.

Yang waved at Blake and yelled, “You got this!” Whether it was from embarrassment or flattery, Blake was sure her face was as red as the seats in the theatre by now. Yang didn’t deserve to see this travesty. Yang didn’t deserve to be with someone like Blake in the first place. Then, as if she was struck by the mythical baseball bat of good ideas, she had it. She understood what Hayden had said.

Mustering up any and all courage she had left, Blake said, “H-hi. How are you all tonight?” If not for the microphone, no one would have heard the semi-whisper. Utterances of “Good” and “Alright” popped up from the audience. Taking in a deep breath, she continued. “I-I’m going to be honest. I am really scared right now. I’m only doing this for my girlfriend, who is, like, way out of my league. Like, she's the MVP of the major leagues and I’m a one-legged malformed baby trying to crawl my way up to home base. It’s not even comparable.” To Blake’s surprise, laughter erupted in the audience. A small smile eked out of Blake’s lips. She marched forth on with a fragile poise to her voice.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great. One of her favorite hobbies is mountain climbing. She once got into a fistfight with a bear on a trail. No joke. The most daring thing I’ve done in the last few months is take off the ‘Do not Remove’ tag on the mattress.” Once again, laughter burst out. Blake was utterly surprised. She wasn’t trying to make jokes. She was simply telling the audience about her relationship with Yang and they found it funny. A small sprout of hope broke from the ground within her. She might actually make it out of this with some semblance of dignity.

Blake stood up a bit more straight and said, “Yeah, I don’t even really know what she sees in a nerd like me. If this was in high school, I would assume she’d want me to do her math homework. But since we’re grown adults, I think she wants me to be a free accountant.” Once more, joyous cries reverberated the theater walls. As the guffaws and chortles of the audience continued, strength began to pour into Blake. The shaking had stopped, her hand was steady. Which each passing second onstage, boldness pulsed throughout her body. The faded smile she had evolved into a confident grin. She could do this. She could actually do this. Blake, now without a trace of fear in her voice, said, “Don’t even get me started on how much prettier she is than me.”

Thus, for the next five minutes, Blake fired off joke after joke about how Yang was better than her. She talked about how Yang’s sunny disposition gets her discounts at local stores while Blake has to pay extra. She talked about how Yang could pick up the couch with no effort while Blake struggled to lift up a five-pound weight. Blake even talked about how Yang’s boob size made her feel like a sixth-grader going through puberty. And all the while, the audience ate it up.

At the end of the set, when the crowd applauded and Blake took a small bow, she felt good. But more than that, she felt alive. As the lights turned back on and the audience started to exit the auditorium, Blake got down from the stage and looked for Yang. She must have loved it! Blake’s eyes darted towards the spot where she last saw her. Instead of the joyous bouncing blonde, however, all she saw was an empty seat. Blake looked around the area a bit more but to no avail. Where did she go?

The question lingered in her mind as she exited the auditorium and went into the lobby area. She scanned the room for her partner. After a solid minute, Blake spotted Yang right outside the glass doors of the theatre, her back turned to the building. Blake walked towards the exit with a sense of jubilation. She had done it! She had actually done a successful stand-up set. Despite the odds, she didn’t utterly humiliate herself! She couldn’t wait to be showered with Yang’s praise.

Blake opened the doors and walked over to Yang. “Yang! What did you think?” Blake said. At this point, Blake was expecting Yang’s usual parade of adoration. She could practically hear Yang saying “I’m so proud of you!” and “You’re so amazing!”

However, once Blake saw Yang’s face, her stomach dropped. Something was wrong. Instead of the happy-go-lucky grin she had expected, Blake saw Yang’s downcast eyes. The aura emanating from her was something Blake had never felt before. Her shoulders were slumped, the trademark smile wiped away and replaced with a subtle melancholy.

“Babe,” said Blake, “are you okay?”

Yang looked over and, like a switch, her mood changed. “Oh yeah, I’m fine!” Yang said, a grin striking across her face. “Sorry I dipped out early. I had to use the bathroom.” Despite the jovial appearance, something felt off about Yang’s expression. It was like her smile was a sort of macabre mask, fake and wrong. Yang's shoulders were still slumped down, and her usual bounciness had all but evaporated.

Before Blake could vocalize her observations, Yang said, “Man, I’m starving! Let’s grab something to eat.” Yang walked towards the parking lot where their car was. Blake followed as apprehension and concern built up inside her with every step. Blake didn’t think she did that bad, did she? The crowd was laughing. It seemed to be going well. Halfway across the parking lot, a drop of doubt entered Blake’s mind, which turned into a flood. Yang must have hated it. She left in the middle of the show because she was too embarrassed to stay.

As Blake approached the car, she saw that Yang had already gotten in the driver's seat. Forcing her feet to grind their way across the pavement, she reached the passenger side of the car and got inside.

As Yang pulled the car out of the parking spot and onto the road, Blake took another look at Yang’s face. With the illumination coming from the passing streetlights above, she was more able to see the changes in Yang’s demeanor. Her face had now morphed into something constrained as if she was holding back something. Her eyes had a tinge of red in the whites and her hands gripped the steering wheel. As they got on the highway, against her better judgment, Blake reached out again.

“Yang?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“I told you, Blake, I’m fine. You did good tonight. I’m really happy for you.” The subtle edge in Yang’s tone said otherwise.

“Thank you. I was pretty nervous.”

“Well, you did it. The crowd loved the jokes about me and you.”

Blake caught a hint of sarcasm at that last phrase. Like a slap to the face, Blake finally understood what was wrong. It was the jokes Blake made tonight. She must have offended Yang. Guilt crawled up her throat and squeezed tight. The brims of Blake’s eyes started to clash with an oncoming rush of tears. Once again, she’d proven why she wasn’t worthy of Yang. Struggling to form the necessary words, Blake said, “Babe, I’m really sorry if I offended you. I just thought you’d like it.”

“Blake, I told you I’m fine-” Yang’s voice cut off once she saw Blake's face. Flicking her eyes towards the highway, Yang scanned for something. Them, all of a sudden, the car exited right and entered into a rest stop. Yang parked the car near the building, got out, and made her way to the other side. She opened the door and pulled Blake into an embrace. The familiar warmth of Yang’s being flowed into Blake’s body.

“Blake, what’s wrong?” Yang whispered as she stroked Blake’s hair.

As if the dam had broken, tears poured out from Blake’s eyes. “I’m sorry you have to deal with me,” Blake said, her voice barely supporting the weight of emotion she felt. “I know when you’re angry. I know you’re upset with me. I’m so sorry.” Yang released her from the embrace and firmly grasped Blake’s shoulders. By the illumination of the nearby streetlamp, Blake could make out Yang’s expression. The tints of red in Yang’s eyes grew into an agonizing crimson.

“Blake, I’m not mad at you, I’m just-” Yang pulled back and started pacing back and forth as if to find the right words. “I’m mad at the things you said tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Blake said.

“I’m just-I’m just angry that you said you weren’t good enough for me in front of all those people. It pissed me off seeing all those guys laugh at something that’s not true because I know it's not true. Right?” Blake didn't say anything. Her eyes drifted down as she let the silence answer the question. Yang’s eyes grew wide. “Blake? You don’t really believe that do you?” The only answer Yang received was the sound of cars driving by on the nearby highway. Silence coated the conversation for a full minute. Yang stood there, expecting any sort of response while Blake avoided her gaze. _What a terrible person I am. I ruined tonight by being such an inconsiderate idiot,_ Blake thought.

“Let’s just go home,” Blake said, her voice filled with shame.

As she was closing the door, however, Yang yanked her out of the car and pulled into another embrace. This time, however, it felt more desperate, more intense, more passionate.

“Don’t you ever think that about yourself, do you hear me?” Yang said, her voice cracking with every word spoken. “Don’t you ever think that you’re not good enough for me because you are. You are good enough.”

Blake couldn’t hold back anymore. She buried herself into Yang’s shoulder and sobbed. “Why? Why do you care about me so much? I’m nothing. I’m a pathetic loser. I don’t deserve you. I’m just a-”

Before she could finish, Yang kissed her. Yang kissed her with every single painful passion she had in her body. She sent her love, her admiration, and her soul when their lips met. Blake embraced the gesture and hungered for more. The two women melded their souls for just a few seconds, but for them, it felt like years. Eventually, they broke off from each other. Yang gently clasped Blake’s cheek and said, “I need you, Blake. You will never, not in a million years, comprehend how much I need you in my life. You are my everything.” Blake gazed into Yang’s eyes, the blonde’s tears flowing freely. “You will never have to earn my love. You will never have to feel like you have to prove something to me. You complete me.” After a few moments, Blake grasped Yang’s hand. 

The two women walked hand in hand to the curb and sat. Blake rested her head on Yang’s shoulders. Silence followed for about two minutes, only breaking when a car passed by on the highway or by the drone of the street lamp. 

“You only did the open mic night because of me, right?” said Yang.

Blake nodded.

“Why?”

Blake looked at the shimmering asphalt in embarrassment.

“Because I felt like I had to. You’re so amazing and kind and wonderful. I’m just me. I feel like if I don’t prove myself to you, that I’m worth your time, then you’ll realize how horrible I am.” Blake tilted her head up to see that tears had once again filled Yang’s eyes. Her heart ached at the sight.

“You know, for someone so smart, you can be a real dummy sometimes,” Yang said.

“What do you mean?”

Yang sighed and looked up at the stars. “Remember that time I broke your favorite vase? The one that had the little kitty cats on it? I was dancing to some tunes and I knocked it over by accident. When I was cleaning it up, I thought to myself, ‘Man, I really did it this time. She’s done with me.’ When you saw the mess, you know what you did?"

"What?" said Blake.

Yang let out a small chuckle and said, "You just laughed and said, 'I'm going to need an insurance policy just for Yang accidents.' Now, how can I hate a person like that?"

Blake’s lips curled upward ever so slightly.

“There was also that time where you tried to make me a strawberry shortcake for my birthday. Emphasis on ‘tried.’ When I walked into the kitchen, the walls were caked in flour. I thought you were bleeding by the amount of strawberry jam on your face.”

Blake giggled. She remembered how the jar slipped out her hands and spilled all over the floor. While she was wiping up the jam, she slipped on a stick of butter and face planted into the mess. Yang’s face was pale as snow when she saw what happened and immediately tried to put bandages on Blake in order to stop the “bleeding.”

Yang continued. “You know what I thought when we’re cleaning up the kitchen?”

“Your girlfriend is never going to make it on ‘Chopped?’” Blake said with a wry grin.

Yang burst out in laughter. Blake felt Yang’s shoulders bounce up and down.

“No, silly! I thought to myself ‘There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be right now then here.’” Yang placed her hand and Blake’s side and rubbed up and down. “Tonight, a hundred people saw how amazing you are. While I would have liked them to laugh at other things, it’s obvious that you got a knack for comedy. Honestly, I’m not surprised. Anything you set your mind to, you kick its ass.”

Yang clasped Blake’s cheek once more. Blake felt Yang’s summer breath breeze upon her skin.

“I’m the luckiest woman in the entire world. My girlfriend Blake Belladonna. You got to start seeing for yourself how lucky it is to be you.”

Blake started at Yang and searched for a droplet of deceit. Alas, all she saw was the woman of her dreams, her soulmate. The one she wanted to grow old and live with in the next life. The only one for her. And if Yang had chosen Blake out of all the women in the world, then maybe she wasn't half-bad either.

Blake wrapped her arms around Yang’s waist and kissed her. She sent her love, admiration, and soul all within those moments of bliss. Then, she spoke from the heart.

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
